


it's you and me (until it isn't anymore)

by deathtouchwlw (deathtouch)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Developing Relationship, F/F, Unhappy Ending, Werewolf Culture, Werewolf Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:02:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22643035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathtouch/pseuds/deathtouchwlw
Summary: Femfeb 2020 | FanficBrigitte falls for the shifter she meets at the hardware store, but Fareeha's mother has different ideas in mind for her daughter's future.
Relationships: Fareeha "Pharah" Amari/Brigitte Lindholm
Comments: 12
Kudos: 17





	it's you and me (until it isn't anymore)

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd! all mistakes are my own.

They met on accident. They both reached for the exact same nail gun at the exact same time. It was at the mom and pop shop on the corner of Oak and Vine that had been there for at least a century. The huge franchise store just outside of town was fine and all, but they would both much rather support local business.

Brigitte was focused on her latest project, thinking critically about all the things she would need to pick up at the store. The last thing she wanted was to have to make a second trip when she was ready to get down to business. The scent of another shifter was there, on the peripheral of her thoughts, but she hadn’t paid it any mind.

Not until their hands touched, and then their eyes met.

There was no threatening, no sizing each other up, no low-pitched growls for dominance. They just gave each other the I-know-what-you-are-because-I’m-one-too nod and struck up a conversation about the projects they were working on. 

Fareeha was just about the easiest girl to talk to. She actually seemed interested in Brigitte’s metalwork too.

They stood in the aisle talking and talking. They stood in the checkout line talking and talking. They stood outside in the parking lot talking even more. 

It had just rained, and the air was heavy. The asphalt was dark with rain water. Autumn was on its way. Brigitte with her plastic bag dangling from her fingers, leaning against the taillight of Fareeha’s pickup truck. Fareeha with a smile on her face that made her look like the prettiest girl in the whole damn world.  
  


* * *

  
Brigitte came from a big family. For her pack and family were one in the same. She was the youngest and she had so many older brothers and sisters that she couldn’t keep track of them all. Any time her siblings got married, the pack grew bigger. As she gained nieces and nephews, the pack grew bigger still. 

Although their pack consisted mostly of familial ties, it wasn’t just the family. Reinhardt, the grizzled old shifter, was part of the pack too. Brigitte was close with everybody, but she was closest with him. She had always looked up to him, admired him, wanted to be like him. Chased after him, nipping at his heels during full moons. 

Fareeha came from a dynasty. Her mother was an alpha, and a well known one at that. Ana Amari was more than well respected in the community, she was revered. 

Ana was ex-military, and her betas were too. Gabriel was black ops. Jack had been in command. Jesse… well, it seemed like they had mostly just picked him up along the way. It was just the five of them but what they lacked in numbers they made up for in vicious competence. Everyone knew the Amari pack was not to be messed with.

Being an Amari and the daughter of an alpha, Fareeha was meant to be mated off to an equally distinguished pack. It was strategic; a way to bring packs together. It was a tradition among shifters going back for centuries. Millennia. There was a big ceremony involved and everything. 

That didn’t stop Fareeha from bringing Brigitte home one night; inviting her to dinner and introducing her as her girlfriend like it was nothing.

The Lindholms were a neutral pack, uninvolved in territory disputes, mating politics, and alpha ascension. Once they had to chase a drifter pack out from the woods surrounding their house. There had been a lot of posturing and growling, but no fighting. A few times Brigitte had gotten into tussles with her brothers during the full moon; rough housing gone out of hand. They never actually hurt each other, though.

Brigitte had never been on the receiving end of another shifter’s ire before. Not really.

Not until that night, that dinner. Not until she met Ana.  
  


* * *

  
Brigitte may not have been welcome in Fareeha’s pack, but Fareeha was more than welcome in hers. 

Brigitte was always going back home. For her mom’s cooking. For her dad’s tool shed. For quality time with Rein. They had a large backyard she could work in. They had family meals on Sundays. They ran together as a pack every full moon, making use of the woods that surrounded the property. 

She invited Fareeha along for all of it: “My mom’s making boysenberry pie tonight, you have to come try some!” “My dad has a blow torch we can use.” “You have to hear him tell the story, Reinhardt’s much better at it.” “We own the land, twenty acres of it. You can run as far as you want and howl as loud as you want and no one will bother you.”

Ingrid loved Fareeha to bits. Then again, there were very few people she turned away from her home. Every time Brigitte’s brothers and sisters had brought home a potential mate, Ingrid would greet them with open arms. If her kids were happy, she was happy too. And if Ingrid was happy, Torbjorn was happy.

Her mother’s approval meant a lot, but Reinhardt’s approval meant the most. He loved Fareeha at once. She laughed at his dumb jokes and didn’t shy away from his heavy handed pats on the back. They got along a little too well, honestly. Brigitte just knew they’d be conspiring against her, pulling pranks on her soon enough. 

When they weren’t with the rest of the Linholm pack, they were alone together. Fareeha went to the scrapyard with Brigitte to help her pick for useful materials. Brigitte went to the gym with Fareeha and pretended it wasn’t impossible to keep up with her. They went to the farmer’s market together. They went to all the little historical sites around town that only tourists went to. 

They held hands. They went on dates. They made each other food. They shifted together and trotted through the woods after dark, chasing after each other. They marathoned new seasons of their favorite shows together. They kissed under the starry sky. They scented each other, curled up and cozy in Brigitte’s bed.

It would have been perfect, if it weren’t for Ana. 

Fareeha had lied and told her mother it was just a fling. That when the time came for her to be mated, she would break it off with Brigitte and mate with whoever Ana deemed fit. Fareeha told Brigitte the truth. That she was falling in love, and she wanted to be with her forever. 

Maybe it wasn’t perfect, but Brigitte was falling in love too.   
  


* * *

  
Brigitte was holding out hope that Ana would give up on this whole arranged marriage nonsense. Ana would realize what century they lived in, and that pack dynasties didn’t matter like they used to. Ana would notice how happy her daughter was. Ana would let Fareeha be her own person with her own life and her own relationship, not just a pawn in some pack dynamics game. 

Fareeha was far less optimistic. She knew her mother better. She knew not to hope for anything. So, just in case things went bad, they hatched a plan. 

“My dad lives in Canada. His pack would take us in.” 

November came with a bite of bitter cold that stripped the gold and orange leaves from the trees. They walked arm and arm through the woods behind Torb and Ingrid’s place. They made their own path, crunching through the underbrush. It was different walking through these woods as humans and not in their shifter form, early in the morning instead of late at night with the full moon shining down on them.

“It’s you and me Brigitte,” Fareeha said again and again, a quiet determination in her tone. “The rest doesn’t matter.” 

Except, the rest did matter. Brigitte didn’t want to run away to Canada. Her entire family was here. If she went too long without seeing her older brothers, or visiting with her mom and dad, or hanging out with Rein, or talking to her sisters on the phone she got lonely. She hated the idea of leaving them behind.

Not to mention how furious Ana would be if they ran away together. Brigitte, absconding with her precious daughter, the legacy of her dynasty, the bargaining chip she planned to use to gain favor with another pack. She was already angry about the two of them seeing each other, it would be so much worse if either of them put Ana’s arranged marriage plans in danger. 

Of course, if they ran, Fareeha and Brigitte wouldn’t be around for Ana to lash out at. Brigitte’s family, though? They were vulnerable. The Lindholms hadn’t been involved in pack warfare for generations. They were neutral. The last thing Brigitte wanted was to make an enemy that could hurt her family. 

She talked to her mom about it. Sitting on the couch she had grown up with, in the living room she had grown up in. The same garish orange fabric on the cushions, the same multicolored afghan draped over the back. The firelight softening everything with its flickering yellow glow. 

“I don’t want to make things difficult for you and Papa,” Brigitte admitted, worried. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Ingrid sat in her rocking chair, comfortable as ever in her usual spot. She was knitting another winter hat. A Christmas gift for Fareeha; dark blue, her favorite color. The holiday was coming up soon after all. 

“Brigitte,” Ingrid sighed, putting her knitting needles down. She looked at her daughter with a kind expression full of understanding. “It would hurt me more to see your heart broken.”

Before she even knew what she was doing, Brigitte was rushing forward to wrap her mom up in a hug. Just like when she was a little kid and she would crawl into her mom’s lap, right here in this room, right here in this chair. She felt as safe and loved now as she did then, back when the world wasn’t as complicated and she didn’t have to worry about things like heartbreak and pack wars. 

Ingrid reminded her that they weren’t just strong, they were Lindholm strong. The pack could look after themselves. They had nothing to fear from Ana Amari or anyone else.   
  


* * *

  
One cold December evening, Fareeha came knocking on Brigitte’s apartment door. She was trying her damnedest to seem calm and collected but there was a sense of urgency coursing through her. “We need to leave,” she said, straining not to sound frantic. She was cooler than that, level-headed in panic situations. “Now. Get your things.” 

In that moment, Brigitte didn’t think twice about what she was leaving behind. She loved Fareeha. She wanted to be with her forever. So she gathered up some essentials, tossed her duffle bag in the back of Fareeha’s truck, and they struck out for the great white north. 

On the drive, Fareeha gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles went pale. Through clenched teeth she told Brigitte about an envoy that had come to their house from some other pack. Her mother announced at dinner that tomorrow there would be a mating ceremony. Out of the blue, just like that. 

Fareeha had made some flimsy excuse to get away and now she was never going back. 

“Hey,” Brigitte reached across the center console to lay a comforting hand on Fareeha’s thigh. “It’s you and me, Fareeha. The rest doesn’t matter.”   
  


* * *

  
Brigitte liked Canada a whole hell of a lot more than she thought she would. The way shifters lived was astoundingly different than what she was used to. They had their own little communities, whole towns where they all lived together. One big pack, or multiple packs converging in one spot. There wasn’t a human in sight. It was weirdly freeing. 

Fareeha’s father, Sam, had welcomed them with open arms and his pack had too. They were risking a lot by taking the two of them in, but they were understanding and unafraid. Out of the kindness of their hearts they offered accommodation; a cozy log cabin near the edge of the village they lived in. 

It really felt like the Wild West, or some kind of frontier. Everything was hand built, lumber taken from trees nearby that they had cut down themselves. Everyone hunted for their own food, shifting every night, and not just on full moons, to chase rabbits and deer in the forests. 

God, and the forest was so vast too. Brigitte thought the woods back home were big, but this was so much bigger. It stretched on for miles and miles. They could run and hunt and play and get lost. They left tracks in the snow and nuzzled for warmth when they needed to. 

Yeah, she liked Canada a lot. She liked Fareeha’s dad too. Sam was kind, with a warm smile, and he always seemed to have the right fatherly advice to give at the right time. He was a true lumberjack, the kind that scarcely existed in this world anymore. He was so glad to see Fareeha he nearly cried when she showed up on his front door. 

With such a comforting father figure and a truly tight knit community, Brigitte didn’t feel as homesick as she might have otherwise. If she started feeling too lonely, Fareeha held her closer, kissed her harder. They had done this for love, and love would carry them through. 

When the new year came, they decided they didn’t want to spend another year unmated. They didn’t have rings, but they had the pack alpha to officiate and the rest of the pack to witness as they exchanged vows and kissed. At midnight they went hand in hand back to their cabin and made soft, tender love to each other like they never had before. 

Fareeha sank her teeth in Brigitte’s neck, marking her. Brigitte sank her teeth into Fareeha’s neck, marking her in turn.   
  


* * *

  
In Spring, it didn’t get any warmer, just brighter. It still snowed, white blanketing everything, like they weren’t already buried in three feet of it from winter. Brigitte and Fareeha were fitting in so well, it was like this had always been their pack. 

Fareeha was as good at logging as her father, and she did look pretty damn hot covered in sawdust and smelling of trees. The calluses on her hands healed fast, especially when Brigitte kissed them all better. When she wasn’t out felling lumber, she helped split trees into firewood. Everyone in the pack shared from the same pile. 

Brigitte was good at just about everything else. There were so many things that needed fixing, general upkeep keeping her busy. She was best with the metal work but she was happy to jump in everywhere else too. People trusted her to do it like she was one of them, and not an outsider, and that warmed her heart. 

The sun still set before seven but the afternoons were growing longer and longer. The April showers that were supposed to bring May flowers brought ice instead. An oncoming ice storm had everyone on edge, none more so than Fareeha and Brigitte. Something just felt... off. 

Then, when the sun sank low, and darkness blanketed the village something else than ice rolled into town. 

Ana Amari. 

Things got violent fast. Fareeha was literally ripped from Brigitte’s arms, shouting and fighting the whole way. Brigitte was dumb enough to try and shift, lunging for Ana’s human form. Brigitte ended up curled on the floor with broken ribs and nothing to show for it. 

The pack tried to stand behind them. Sam tried to talk some sense into his ex wife. Fareeha took on her mother herself but it was all for naught. Ana was an alpha, she was ex-military, and she had more strength and vicious competence than any of them.   
  


* * *

  
When Brigitte came home, it was with her broken bones healing and her tail tucked between her legs. Her lease had lapsed on her apartment, a piece of her life she had readily abandoned when she ran away to be with Fareeha. Without an apartment to go to, she went home to her family. To her mother and her father and her brothers and sisters. To Reinhardt. They all looked at her so sadly. She had loved and she had lost and they knew it. 

Reinhardt had new scars. He refused to say how he’d gotten them, but Brigitte had a good enough idea without him telling. She apologized, profusely, tears in her eyes. She never meant for him, or any of them to get mixed up in all this. 

Brigitte tried to text and call, but Fareeha’s number was disconnected. She knew better than to try to go over to Ana’s place, but she did loiter around other spots around town where she thought she might find Fareeha. The mom and pop tool shop downtown. The gym. She didn’t find Fareeha anywhere, couldn't track her down. 

And if she could, then what? Ana would just hunt them down again... 

It hurt to even think about Fareeha. Brigitte’s neck ached, mating bite feeling more sore than any of her other injuries. She tried not to be too pathetic but everything reminded her of the mate she had lost. The woods and all the times they had walked through them together, hand in hand. The scrap yard and all the times Fareeha has indulged her digging through trash to find treasure. The farmer’s market, the streets downtown, the full moon. 

Brigitte spent most nights choking down sobs, and the ones where she didn’t end up crying her eyes out were the best nights of all.   
  


* * *

  
They met on accident. They were both stopped at the end of the street, on opposite sides of the crosswalk from each other. There was an arts fair going on at the town square, a little festival where people could sell crafts and things. Ingrid was set up with a dozen different knitted items on display. 

Brigitte was staring unfocused at the small town crowd, trying not to think too hard about her life and how it was going these days. The last thing she wanted was to accidentally think of the mate she had lost. The scent of another shifter was there, on the peripheral of her thoughts, but she hadn’t paid it any mind. 

Not until their eyes met, locked in one another from across the street. Fareeha had her arm around her new mate’s waist. A tall, thin blonde who looked as dangerous as she was beautiful. Her eyes were red as her lips and her smile was scary. Fareeha didn’t look happy, exactly, but she didn’t seem to mind touching and being touched by this new woman. 

Brigitte’s eyes fell to the marks on Fareeha’s throat, mating mark bitten over with fresh fangs.

Fareeha’s mate said something to her that made her huff a laugh. Her smile still made her look like the prettiest girl in the whole damn world. Brigitte was pretty sure her heart broke in half, as if it wasn’t already broken, but she smiled too.

What else could she do?

**Author's Note:**

> i'm taking femslash february suggestions year round  
> send requests or prompts ➝ [here](https://curiouscat.me/deathtouch)  
> femfeb '20 masterpost ➝ [here](https://twitter.com/deathtouchxx/status/1223794127822839808?s=20)  
> follow me on twitter ➝ [here](https://twitter.com/deathtouchxx)  
> thanks for reading ✩°｡⋆


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